That Unfamiliar Terrain
by Soft Light
Summary: Kara and Lee are drunk. This one is pure candy, folks. Kind of like cuddling up with a blanket in front of a fire, except with naughty parts. Takes place shortly before the events in "Scar."
1. Drunk

"You're too drunk to play," Helo had tried to tell Kara as he gently escorted her outside the mess, Apollo hanging off her shirt-tails.

"Karl!" She put a hand on his chest and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. "It's 'k. I'm not really drunk. I'm just pretendin' so my buddy Lee here won't feel so bad." She gestured over at the glazed and happy man who was still hanging onto the hem of her tanks with a lax grip. She leaned in even closer. "He's _wasted_." Gleeful laughter bubbled out of her.

"Well, then maybe you better take him out of here and put him to bed." He flinched at his choice of words; her eyebrows raised.

"That was _dirty_, Karl. You're a dirty boy." She switched to a pout, as Lee's head began to droop down to her shoulder. "I was on fire back there, Helo. Had those basters right where I wanted 'em. They didn't see this comin'." She held up her fists and landed a fake punch on his jawline, but couldn't quite manage to hold herself up during the follow through. Helo had to fight back his own laughter as her fall caused Lee to smack his head against the ship's walls. He jerked awake and smiled bleerily at Helo before turning to Starbuck.

"Kara? Wha's goin' on?"

"They're kickin' us out, pal. Let's go somewhere where people appreciate us." She took his hand and started dragging him away, running her shoulder into the wall as she turned a corner. Helo could hear giggles all the way down the hall as both she and Apollo seemed to find this hilarious; he headed back into the mess. Racetrack dealt him a new hand.

"Did they put up a fight?"

"Starbuck a little, but Apollo is out of it. Lords help him in the morning."

Ten minutes later, after much staggering and smacking into things, they'd made it back. Kara couldn't stop laughing at the confusion on Lee's face.

"Kara, how drunk am I?" She just smiled impishly and pushed him all the way into the room, closing the hatch behind them. "Kara . . . 'm so tired." His eyes were drooping shut again; he hardly even registered when Kara pushed him backwards towards his bunk. The back of his knees hit his bed and he collapsed downwards, pulling Kara with him. Her hand was still entwined with his.

"It's 'k, Lee. You go to sleeps. I'll stay up and make sure you don't die or somethin'." From down where he lay, Kara heard a faint mumbling from where his face met pillow that she took for another "'k."

When it looked like he really would be sleeping, Kara soon grew bored. She wasn't that tired, and her brain had a fuzzy pleasant feeling towards it. She contemplated getting out of Lee's bunk to head to her own, but couldn't muster up the energy. Instead, she pulled his curtain shut. On the way back, her hand brushed against Lee's stomach, and he let out a muffled giggle.

"Oh, so's your awake now," she said. "Let's wake you up some more." She was fascinated by the way his stomach shuddered with the laughter, and the more he gasped for air, the more she wanted to continue assaulting that unfamiliar terrain. He sat up abruptly, grabbing her wrists and pinning them on top of her thighs. He was plainly trying to give her his most intimidating look, but it only ended with both of them collapsing back down in fits of uncontrollable laughter.

They landed with Kara flat on her back, Lee beside her. He lowered his head to rest down beside hers. "Now you've done it," he said. "I'm all awake now . . . kind of," his head inching towards her shoulder again.

"And now I'm kinda sleepy," Kara yawned. She liked the way that Lee's warmth felt against her side, like a heavy blanket. She nudged closer towards him, one of her legs coming to rest between his own. If she had been more awake, she would have inched closer still, giving in to the urge that was now consuming her, the need to become so entwined with her surprise bedmate, swaddled in his heat and comfort, that she could sleep forever, drowning amongst his limbs. Fortunately he seemed to be having the same feelings as she sensed him bring his arm around to rest on her stomach, and his forehead touched hers.

"Mmm, this feels nice," he murmured, breath tickling her ear. She didn't respond, even when she felt his hand smoothing over the slight convex of her belly. Soft rhythmic strokes, like a child petting a puppy. She let out a sigh. His index and middle fingers were moving in soft circles and figure eights, but he seemed to want more. Slowly his fingers moved lower, and for a second she thought he was heading for the promised land, a jolt of sudden adrenaline coursing through her, but no. His fingers dipped upwards, raising her tanks an inch above her belly button, before resuming their rhythmic circles on newly bared skin. Her fuzzy brain accepted these actions, even as Lee spoke, half sighing his words and fighting off sleep.

"Your skin. So soft." He flattened his palm out gently so that its entire warmth was covering her belly. She felt absurdly calm and happy as it made the barest of movements. There was an impassive innocence to it all and she wasn't alarmed in the slightest by Lee's apparent need to touch her. To feel the softness of her skin. She was feeling something similar herself.

She shifted slightly and moved her tank just a little bit higher; she was feeling distinctly langorous, almost feline. Lee's breath was still brushing against her ear and she could tell his eyes were closed without even looking, but his hand was still undulating gently against her, his thumb idly rubbing up and down. She felt like purring. He stopped for a second, as if realizing for the first time that what he was doing might not be appropriate.

"Kara?"

"Mmm?"

"Do you mind me touchin' you like this?"

She didn't hesitate, didn't even think about it. "No, feels good. Feels warm." She wanted more, even, and, acting on pure instinct, she inched her tanks up even further, bringing them over her head. Lee raised up slightly to help her off with them. "You, too," she said, finger poking his abdominals, as she simultaneously begin peeling away her bra. "Warm skin," she sighed.

"Warm skin," he agreed, aping her motions.

When both of them were bare chested, Kara scooted over onto her side so that she was facing Lee, their legs still entwined. "Closer," she murmured. He obliged by pulling her to him so that their chests were flush. One hand splayed over her lower back, the other arm snaking underneath her right breast, hand coming to rest tangled in her hair. Kara felt her skin rise into gooseflesh as her nipples came into contact with his sparse chest hair. It tickled, but only for a moment. Then it just felt right.

His hands had resumed their quiet motion, but Kara could tell that he was once again growing sleepy by the slowing of his strokes. She sighed against the underside of his neck and let herself fall into the warm and spinning haze of sleep.


	2. Voyeur

Lee didn't know what to make of it -- any of it.

He'd awoken a couple of hours later to a dull thump against his head. He struggled to open his eyes, another thump -- Hot Dog getting into his bunk. Lee moved his head around on instinct to shout at him to keep it down, but instantly regretted the movement. He was still drunk and his head was spinning. The faint light that had made it through his curtain seemed to be dancing merrily against his corneas, giving everything a sort of hazy glow. He caught himself smiling and knew that this dancing light show did not bode well for the morning. A soft form let out a sigh from the region of his right ear and he suddenly realized he wasn't alone. He risked the dizziness in order to see what the frak was going on -- he was so confused, and the dancing lights were making him feel fuzzy and slightly ill.

It was an angel.

No, scratch that. It was Kara, but she looked like an angel. A really blurry one. His head was still spinning from the sudden movement and her blonde hair was tangled in a dirty golden halo. He was so fixated on the bright strands of hair that lay so close to his face that he nearly missed the fact that she was naked from the waist up. It was the breasts that clued him in, rising and falling in the dim light. His first thought -- stupidly -- How did that get there? He tried to focus his brain on his surroundings. Kara was passed out on her back, on his pillow, without a shirt. Her face was leaning towards him and one of her hands was under the pillow. The other was resting on his upper thigh, which -- he noted, not without surprise -- was firmly covering the top of her hips. But it was the placement of his own hands that puzzled him. One rested on top of her stomach, the other remained tangled in her hair. Like a lover.

Lee, confused but not unhappy, struggled to remember. His thoughts strove towards that same place -- How did we get here? All he could see were images, brief and out of order. There had banging against walls and giggles, Kara's face obscured in the dark, and the strongest yet, the memory of soft skin against his palm, and Kara taking off her shirt. He seemed to register her nakedness for the first time, and not just the absence of clothes. Her face was relaxed and her posture sprawling, malleable. He'd never seen her like this before. Almost without realizing it, he had begun moving closer, fighting the blurring light to really look at her. He was spinning but his hands were steady.

His hands, they were moving too. It was slow, nearly unnoticeable, but his left hand had begun to untangle itself and his right had lifted off that seemingly vast expanse of creamy skin, punctuated by a dimple of a belly button, and begun moving towards those tantalizing hills, their coral peaks rising and falling with every breath.

Then, hands and eyes met, and Lee felt an unearthly shiver of guilt that was quickly overshadowed by a simple and powerful curiosity. He could see it in his mind, but he couldn't remember how it felt. Hands hovering, longing to touch. He gave in.

Very softly, his right palm came down to rest on top of her breast. He gave it a gentle squeeze and was once again surprised by its malleability, so soft yet firm. He glanced up to Kara's still-sleeping face -- checking to see if it was still her -- then continued his illicit administrations. With thumb and forefinger as his primary investigators, Lee began tracing paths all along the surface of Kara's skin. Up and around the nipple -- which he was a little pleased to note had reacted even in her sleep, and was now firmly erect -- brushing the soft undersides of her breasts, down and around her belly-button once again, and back up to her chest and shoulders. His fingers danced along the top of her collar bone, up to her earlobe, tracing the lines of her jaw and cheekbones, twirling a piece of her halo-hair in between his fingers.

When she let out another sigh, he realized that unwittingly, his thighs had been squeezing her lower half with ever growing pressure while his fingers had been doing their dance, and he noticed with some surprise that he had the beginnings of an erection. In this state of in between, Lee's brain did his thinking for him. How had it come to this? When had it become a distinct possibility that he would want to share his bed with this woman, his life? Somewhere in all the blood and guts and horror, in the stolen moments of laughter and even rarer moments of peace, he had fallen in love with her. What surprised him most was that he wasn't surprised. As drunk as he was, he knew this couldn't go any further. He had to stop, to wait for sobriety, and for the real world to come crashing back in.

With one final brush of his fingers against her lips, Lee let the adrenaline fade away into a pleasant exhaustion, the lights still flickering merrily against the closing backdrop of his eyelids.

His head was on her shoulder and his hand was on her heart.


	3. Fear

"You're so good, aren't you?" Kara sloshed her drink. "You think you're so good." Another swig of ambrosia, and another dirty glance across the mess. He had his back to her, his shoulders -- broad and barely clothed -- moved up and down with every breath, with every bite. Almost without thinking she realized she'd been staring at him for five minutes. Secreted away in her alcoholic corner, Kara was stewing in her own misery. She watched as Lee wiped his mouth and gulped down some water -- muscles rippling just under the surface. She took another swig to forget.

But forgetting had always been a problem for her. Most often it was those experiences that were so vivid that she most wanted to lose. Fifty thousand people alone in the dark of space with twelve planets burning behind them, impotent with rage. Fingers slammed in a door jamb, friends turned into enemies -- numbing betrayals. Another swig. Waking up shirtless in the arms of a man who'd been the closest thing to family she'd had left. She emptied the bottle.

Kara hated feeling so helpless.

It had been two weeks since that morning. Two weeks since she'd drifted awake slowly and gently, twined unabashedly with Lee Adama. Their limbs had been like heavy vines, winding and growing closer with the passing of time. But as she'd woken, gradually becoming aware of sensual reality, so too had awoken the panic. It crept up on her like a careful predator. Lee's hands were on her bare skin, his hips covering her own. She was encased in his warmth. But as his fingers moved unknowingly -- tiny dream movements -- against her stomach, she broke out into a cold sweat, and was seized by something akin to terror. She needed to get out of there. Away from his sighs and his gentle touches. Away from the pleasure. Away from the pain. His eyes were moving frantically under their lids, his mouth slightly open. What had they done? Here she was at the motherfrakking end of the world -- hangover approaching -- and she'd thought nothing was sacred. But here in Lee's bed, she knew she'd been wrong. There had been one line she had yet to cross, one boundary yet to be broken, and she'd smashed into it headlong. There could be no going back.

Fighting to keep calm, Kara had extracted herself carefully from her precarious position, pulling on her discarded clothing as quickly as possible, and then slipped silently through the curtain. As soon as her feet had hit the floor, she'd taken off through Galactica's empty hallways, her fast walk became running, until she reached her destination. Locking herself inside, she'd stripped the clothes off which she'd only put back on moments before, and stepped into the waiting stream of water. She'd concentrated on the way the water had caressed her face, covering her entirely. They were sheets of wet blankets swaddling her, over and over, and she had closed her eyes.

Maybe if she stayed here, it would all just wash away.

But that had been then, and this was now, and her bottle was empty. She knew he was aware of her -- painfully so. She could see it in the lines of his muscles, the tension and the regret. She knew he didn't dare approach her, not again.

It had been simple, easy even, to do it. She'd been standing alone in front of the wall of memories, staring death in the face, when he'd come up behind her and placed his hand on the small of her back. The gentle pressure had enraged her and she'd shrugged him off violently, moving away. She hadn't looked, but she'd heard the way he'd said her name, and that had been enough. She'd wanted to say something, but she didn't know what. Confusion, panic, and anger prodded her into motion, but something sharp and horrible and unidentifiable had kept her mouth sealed. Her throat hurt; the silence buzzed in her ears. When she hadn't responded, he'd walked away -- slowly. She'd heard his footsteps falter a couple of times as if he'd changed his mind, but they'd eventually disappeared around the corner. They hadn't exchanged a word since and the only times she'd heard him speak were when he was issuing orders as her CAG.

But it was time to go. Still clutching her empty bottle, Kara staggered over to the exit. As she passed Lee he turned his head away from her, and she stumbled. Her bottle dropped a slight distance and rolled across his table. Quicker than she could form a thought, Lee had caught the bottle, raised it into the air, and smashed it against the wall. Kara stopped where she was; the whole room was silent, watching them. Kara felt a hand on her elbow -- it was Helo.

"Come on. Out." He pulled her fast, while she was still busy staring horrified at the bulging veins in Lee's neck, his clenched fists. When he managed to pull her all the way out of the mess, she felt more than saw him grasp her face and swing it around to face his own. "Pull yourself together, Starbuck."

"Lemme go, Helo." Her fists beat ineffectually against his chest. But he didn't let go, so she stopped fighting.

It was only after she'd been escorted back to her bunk and shoved unceremoniously under her sheets that she realized her face was covered in dried tears. This was it then.

The motherfrakking end of the world.


	4. Falling

She had been hovering around his periphery for weeks. Turning corners, he'd catch flashes of gold. Running down the halls, he'd imagine her obnoxious laughter echoing from unknown locations. He couldn't understand what had happened -- not really.

Blurry images were what made up most of his memories from that night, but he knew the gist of it. He knew that he'd woken up alone, head pounding and arms empty. He knew that the first thought on his mind had been to find her and ask her what was happening between them. And he knew what he wanted her answer to be.

He was under no delusions. Kara was Kara. He didn't expect her to change, but as he sought her out he still hoped for the best. He would accept what she was willing to give, even if it was only her body. He imagined that it would be enough just to hold her, and move in secret ways. He would love her from afar. As much as every part of him thrilled at flying, once the adrenaline faded, the danger had passed, and Viper engines gone cold, it was hard not to notice that the space outside Galactica was nothing but an icy black vacuum, empty and meaningless.

Lee had always found Kara attractive in her own brash way, but she'd been firmly out of bounds -- his brother's territory. But somehow in the months since the first Cylon attack, Lee had come to depend on her in ways he couldn't consciously fathom. She was his drinking buddy, his Triad opponent, his wingman. She was the first person he wanted to share news or gossip with, and she was often the last person he spoke to before sleep. She was his most exciting competition, and his most unwavering supporter. After a dogfight, the battle sweat still making his flight suit stick to his thighs, he only relaxed after seeing her bright head emerge from her helmet, safe. He knew that he'd been in denial for ages, but now in the aftermath of their drunken exploits, it was futile to ignore the facts. There was only so much a person could share with another -- moments, drinks, and beds -- without falling in love, or falling apart. He picture their lives like the roots of two trees standing side by side, growing ever deeper into the ground, intertwining and nourishing one another, until at last, one could not exist without the other.

It was in this state of mind that Lee had approached her. She'd been standing with her back to him, her skin seeming to flicker along with the candles lining the walls, grieving and regretting with every motion. Swaying in time with the faces of the dead around her. His hand, slowly and gently, had grazed her back, and the resulting flinch had sent a jolt of pure adrenaline through his system. She wouldn't look at him -- he began to panic -- and when she'd shrugged him off with an unmistakable anger, he'd responded in kind. She hadn't even given him a chance.

There had been a couple of confrontations in the intervening weeks, but they were small in comparison to the rising tides of rage and confusion that Lee gradually felt himself consumed by. They were beings of their own, these feelings, burrowing their way into his every muscle. She wouldn't look him in the face; she didn't even have the courage to reject him with kindness or give him a chance to apologize for his moment of weakness. He gained no solace from the memory of her skin, and when she came near he fairly crackled with tension of it. He wanted to attack her. He wanted to throw her bodily against a wall and crush her to him, uncaring of consequence. It scared him beyond measure.

He'd been spending more and more time in the gym, trying to expunge the anger out through his fists, and this is where he was now. He'd just finished a fierce bout when the door swung open and Kara entered. Lee lay unmoving on the floor, and Kara didn't see him, frozen in a stretch. He watched as she taped up her hands, taking special care with the knuckles. It seemed he wasn't the only one in need of working out some aggression. Then again, she'd always been the violent one. His breath seemed stale in his lungs as he kept as still as possible. She flexed her shoulders, beginning to bounce from toe to toe, circling the punching bag. Despite his anger, he found himself admiring the smooth movement of her limbs dancing to the beat of her own frustration -- the rippling undercurrent of muscle under flesh. His breath rasped reflexively when his eyes came to rest on the heavy bounce of her breasts, and then quickly up to her eyes, intense with concentration.

Suddenly, inexplicably, his anger and frustration were overridden by an even baser need: raw and unrefined lust. Almost without thought his course of action was set. While she carried out her one-sided battle with fists and flailing, he silently rose to take up his own position in the coming war. He fastened the hatch lock, and padded silently over to Kara, who was lost among her thoughts. He waited for the perfect moment; he had enough self control left for that at least. Finally, it came.

Kara had paused her violent ministrations to wipe her face when Lee seized his chance. Coming up behind her, he grabbed her wrists and pushed her face first into the wall, molding himself to the curves of her body. At first she just let out a single gasp, and then she spoke.

"What the frak!?"

Any further words were interrupted by Lee placing his mouth against the sweaty slope of her neck and suckling. Lee could tell she was fighting hard against whatever reactions, good or bad, she was currently experiencing, but his body was rejoicing in the contact. Suddenly, apparently having mustered the strength, she twisted in his arms -- her wrists wrenching free -- but he was quick and caught them again, holding them against her sides. He opened his mouth to say something, her eyes were blazing, but before he could get the words out she had leaned forward and captured his lips with her own, biting and sucking with a fervor he knew she usually reserved for killing Cylons. He pushed her further against the wall, his right thigh coming to rest in between her legs. When she pushed up against him with her hips, he was lost.

All thoughts were gone; it was just their lips and the pressure, building ever higher with each passing second, waiting for their chance to explode.


	5. Frakking

It wasn't fair. He was making it impossible for her to hate him, and, oh did she want to hate him. She wanted to hate him for the thigh pressed between her legs. She wanted to hate him for the hand tangled in her shirt, and the other on her ass. She wanted to hate him for the rough lips, and the desperate, confident rasp of his breath. But most of all, she wanted to hate him for the way she never wanted to let go. For the way she found herself pushing against him, pushing so that she might destroy herself, destroy him. Her hands in his hair, her lips against his, pushing so that she would never feel empty again.

She'd never seen him like this before, so unhinged.

She shuddered. Lee had moved his lips back to her neck, where he'd found her pulse point and was sucking on it furiously. Kara felt her heart give a little jolt, and with her head resting wantonly against Galactica's walls, let out an uncontrollable moan. Her fingers were gripping half-moons into his shoulder; the pressure from his thigh was almost unbearable. As soon as she realized she'd been pressing herself against it, harder and harder, she shoved Lee away from her -- sudden. He fell to the ground, the air whooshing out of his lungs, where she promptly straddled his stomach. She could feel his erection against her back thigh as she reached under his tanks, ripping them over his head. She caught a glimpse of his eyes just after -- bright blue and dilated with lust -- before looking away again. His tags bounced, jangling against his smooth chest. She could tell he was attempting to hold himself back, but his attempts wouldn't last long. As soon as she was finished undoing his fly and had begun to inch his pants off -- all the while knowing his eyes were focused on the ceiling, his hands clenched into fists -- Lee reacted. He sat straight up, moving so that his naked chest touched her breasts, his cheek and hers were flush. She was now straddling his lap, his breath tickling her ear. All at once, he removed her sweat-soaked top and sports bra.

Before she knew what had happened, he was up and out from under her, removing his pants. Crouching on her heels, Kara only caught a glimpse of naked Lee before he had come around behind her. She moved to turn, but he cried out, "Don't move," in such a way that she immediately obeyed, despite her anger. The air warmed behind her as he approached, his hands coming around to her front as his mouth found her earlobe. A couple of nips and a suck and he had pushed her forward onto her hands and knees, placing his own hands on her shoulder and the small of her back. He began leaving more small bites all the way down her spine, and the hand that had been on her back was now coming around to undo her pants. He jerked them roughly down her hips and, inserting his thighs between her own, he widened their position. Her wrists were beginning to ache from the pressure.

All of this happened very fast. Lee moved with a determined and harsh precision. His hands weren't soft on her skin, but rough and sharp, and there was rage in his movements. As he pulled the last of her clothes off, the elastic waistband of her underwear had been caught on her foot, Kara let her face sink to the floor. She felt deliciously depraved, her ass in the air, and Lee's compact body wedged tightly with hers. Then, almost before she could prepare herself -- even though she had known what was coming -- Lee had parted her legs even further, his hands on her hips, and he entered her in one swift motion.

He set a fast pace from the start, moving within her. Ass met hip, over and over, and Kara was breathless with the shocking pleasure of it. Lee Adama was honest-to-Gods frakking the hell out of her. She knew she deserved it, even liked it, feeling him wild and unrestrained. But this wasn't how things were supposed to be. Her lust and her rationality -- what little was left -- would not meet. But everything flew out the window when he bent over her, his stomach and tags bumping her back with every thrust. His left hand came down to rest beside hers for support, but his right snaked under her belly, his palm laying flat. That touch, so gentle in comparison, nearly sent her over the edge. She began meeting his thrusts with a newly frantic energy.

Grunts and moans, forcefully pushed from their mouths, echoed throughout the room. The sound of it only pushed Kara further, until finally the exquisite and desperate pressure that had been building exploded inside her. She was helpless before the power of her orgasm; only Lee's hand seemed to be holding her up, her face sticky on the mat. This was too much for Lee as well, who soon responded in kind, finishing with a crackling, primal groan, Kara still fluttering around him. He collapsed on top of her for a second -- the weight of him surprisingly pleasant -- but quickly rolled off to the side.

At first, Kara was too spent to move. Her stomach and thighs -- aching from being held open for so long -- were stuck to the floor. Her breath came in deep gasps, and she felt sated beyond sex, in a way she couldn't describe. She heard Lee on the other side, but she couldn't bring herself to turn and face him.

The waiting seemed interminable, but when the sweat on her skin began to be cold and uncomfortable, she knew it was no use denying the inevitable. She sat up, still not facing him, but couldn't seem to get her mouth to form words. What words were even adequate? Before she could find sentiments to fill the silence, she heard him get up from the floor. She jerked around.

He was covered in sweat, his hair unkempt, and was pulling his clothes back on in a hurry.

"Frak 'em and leave 'em?" she asked. "Is this the new Apollo?"

He continued jerking his clothes back on, not meeting her gaze. She didn't know why she was so calm; she knew she should be angry. "You haven't spoken to me in a month --"

"We haven't spoken to each other," he interrupted.

"Fine, we. And then you sneak attack me and frak my brains out, and then just expect to walk away?"

He was done dressing and began moving for the door. "I thought that's what you wanted. Frak or fight, right Kara? And we're doing both." She moved to block his path, and the clank of her tags in between her breasts reminded her she was still naked. She didn't care. She'd lost all inhibition, all dignity, the moment she'd let him push her to her knees. She almost grinned when she noticed him trying to avoid her breasts with his eyes.

"Kara, please move."

"No." She didn't know what she was doing, but she knew this conversation wasn't over. She knew the minute she let him walk out that door, their friendship would officially be over. She needed some kind of reassurance.

"Fine," he said, sliding one hand past her to rest on the door. "What do you want?" Kara hadn't thought that far.

"I - I don't know. Just stay here until I figure it out."

He still wouldn't look her in the face. "I'm tired, Kara. I'm just so very tired. And I get it, you freaked out."

"What does that mean?" she asked, suddenly wishing for something to cover up with. "You didn't?"

"It means," he said, "that it's over. This thing is over. Done."

"Done." All the fight had gone out of him.

He finally raised his gaze to meet hers. "Done," he said, reaching behind him to pick up her clothes, which he then threw at her. She caught them with finality.

She knew he meant it.

It was only later, as she was walking down the halls, slightly limping, that she figured it out. He had given her what she needed -- viciously, miraculously -- and now it was her turn.

She would need all the courage she could get.


	6. Surrender

She came to him in the middle of the night, smelling of sweet vanilla cigar. As supplies were limited, he immediately knew this was no casual visit.

It was obvious she'd orchestrated the moment carefully. Once again, everyone was either flying CAP or watching the Triad tournament. She'd probably won that cigar from some poor sucker. A fleeting picture ran through Lee's mind, of Starbuck grinning cockily, a smoldering cigar in the corner of her mouth. Except now she was climbing into his bunk. Upon seeing him about to speak, she covered his mouth with the tips of her fingers. Before he could decide how to react, she had pulled the curtain shut – the dim light making her skin glow a pale white – and straddled him. Her hand smelled of tobacco and soap. It occurred to him then that he should kick her out, that he was supposed to be angry with her, but once again – as always – she was far ahead of him.

While he was busy wrapping his mind around her long limbs and strong thighs, she'd removed her hand from his mouth, and carefully, slowly, replaced it with her lips. Perhaps it was the slowness that threw him; Kara usually moved with a swift sureness, going from here to there with a confident fatality that often left him dizzy. Or perhaps it was just her lips, softly suckling. They were warm and slippery. In fact, all of her felt warm and pliable, pressed against him. Her weight shifted as she began lightly kissing his jaw-line, coming around to his ears, nipping a lobe. It was when she turned her attentions to his face, his forehead, and the creases of his eyes that he realized his hands had been gripping the sides of the bed like a vise.

With his eyes closed, he was trapped and confused; warm, wet butterflies grazed his skin. She seemed to notice his alarm, as he felt her hands come over to grasp his wrists and give them a gentle tug. He acquiesced reluctantly. And then, in an instant, he realized her intent; it hit him with the mind-shattering intensity of a blunt force trauma. When she laced her fingers through his, bringing a pair of their conjoined hands – he wasn't sure which – up to her face, she planted a single kiss at the base of his exposed palm and it was just there.

She was making love to him.

Kara Thrace, the Viper pilot with balls of steel, was making sweet, slow, passionate love. He knew in an instant it was a supreme gift that she was giving him, and that letting down her emotional walls was infinitely harder for her than a simple apology. He sensed inherently that his closed eyes had made it easier for her and that once he opened them, as he now wanted desperately to do, her task would only become harder. He moved slowly, bringing their other pair of hands to rest on her hip as she once again focused her ministrations on his lips. This time he met her head on, and she immediately sensed the change in him. Her thighs squeezed his hips tighter, and she was pressing herself with ever greater force against him, with small undulations of her pelvis. Inflamed with a sudden intensity of need, his hips bucked to meet her.

He knew implicitly that her control over him was what was keeping her together, but as they became more frenzied, he knew he couldn't keep it up forever, that his desire to devour her whole would eventually overcome him. Abruptly, she pulled away from him, lips parting with crackling suction. He chanced to open his eyes and found her staring right back at him, her hands resting on the bed to either side of him, breath heaving through her. She met his gaze and did not blink. "Slow," she said, "Not like last time." He groaned as she tormented him with an agonizing removal of her bra and tanks, and when she was threw, she flashed him a mischievous grin, and leaned forward to divest him of his garments. He was gripping her calves now but was forced to move when she peeled his shirt off over his head. Her nails grazed back down his bare chest and his nipples tightened reflexively. She leaned over to trail more kisses down his front and her breasts brushed against him. When her tongue dipped into his belly button, his erection hardened painfully inside his pants. An uncontrollable groan escaped him, and planting a final kiss beside his navel, Kara bent to release him. He lifted his hips to oblige her, and when both of them had been relieved of all clothing, her wet heat coming back down to rest was blissful relief.

Lee's hands were now wandering of their own accord, tracing paths of finger and palm lines up and down her back and sides, across her arms, and back down to the crease of her ass. Save the once, she hadn't met his eyes, but he was determined to wait her out. Finally, when the inevitable had built up to an unbearable level, she met his gaze once again, but the action froze her. In assurance, Lee brought his hand up to cup her face, his thumb caressing her cheekbones. She leaned into it, and with a small but encompassing shift of position, she lowered herself gently onto him, her flesh parting in surrender. With their eyes still locked, Lee was lost in a haze of surprising pleasure, whose source began not at the heat of their connection, but in a place much deeper and previously unknown. A rift had opened up inside of him, and all the pleasure and the love of the moment was rushing inside, opening him wider. Save for blinking, their connection never wavered, and while their hands moved to once again clasp, their movements synchronized to an unheard but certainly felt tempo until neither could be sure who was moving whom. With every thrust, Kara leaned closer, further from containment behind her precious walls, until finally, her heavy lidded gaze fell beyond his sight, her cheek coming to rest against his. His left hand found itself on her waist for support, but Lee knew he couldn't last much longer.

"Kara," he whispered in her ear, hoping she would read the desperation in his voice. She sighed in response, and ever so carefully, Lee brought his free hand between them to find that most sensitive of places. At first, when he brushed her with his index finger, the sensory shock of his touch registered in her movements, momentarily breaking their rhythm. She grunted in his ear. Soon enough, she settled into a new and more frantic pace, fueled along by Lee's circular touch.

He could tell when she finally lost control. Her gentle movements became spastic, and she bucked against his hand, her breath ragged. Seemingly in solidarity, her hand found his own, the one that moved between them. She didn't try to manipulate his movements, but merely let her hand rest on top of his, leaving him to his work. When she finally fell over the edge, her face pressed into his shoulder, that hand still lay on his, and it was that hand that finally finished him.

When the last flutterings of her orgasm finally subsided around him, she gave his hand a tiny squeeze. It was an apology and a thank you and an admission of unsullied connection all at once, and it was too much for Lee to handle. The rift inside of him that had been threatening to burst him wide open since she sank down on top of him finally triumphed. Kara relinquished herself languidly to Lee's motions as he pounded out his release. Every thrust pushed a quiet whimper from her mouth, and when he finished and slipped out of her, just before he succumbed to the inevitable exhaustion, she planted a wet, lazy kiss on the underside of his neck, right on his pulse point. "Lee," she whispered, yawning ferociously and entwining herself with him. It was no declaration of love, but he knew Kara and what tonight had meant for her, and that was all the promise he needed.


	7. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

He knew he was wearing her down, and she knew it, too, so every chance she got, she took joyful revenge. If they were sitting next to each other in the mess, she'd accidentally on purpose bring her hand down to rest on his crotch, and just when she had his attention, she'd get up from the table and leave him hanging. She made sure to harangue him openly during his CAG briefings, and deliberately set out to embarrass him in front of as many people as possible. In the middle of sex, when normal people would whisper hurried I-Love-You's, she would pinch or tickle him mercilessly, or make fun of his hair.

He didn't mind.

There were moments when she forgot herself, and he always noticed. The way her expression changed when he entered a room, the way she left him silly presents in his locker or on his briefing podium, and the way her hands would settle peacefully against him in the middle of the night.

Any moment he spent stolen with Kara was an island of solace in the midst of horror and mundanity that was their lives. Lee knew he wasn't alone in feeling this. Their relationship – or whatever it was – was a secret with which they held the world at bay. When there was a food shortage, there was Kara. When a friend died in battle, there was Kara. When the ever looming certainty of death, the extinction of the human race, seemed ready to bludgeon their hope into pieces, there was Kara. And when her fear of both love and hate presented itself, Lee was there for her in turn.

Deep down, she knew she was falling in love with him.

Oh, he was playing it smart. He was moving into her life so slowly and surely that she hardly knew it, ingraining himself so deeply into her psyche that she knew he would soon become a necessity rather than a treat. And that was what kept her wary: all the while she was falling, in the back of her thoughts she knew that if she were ever to lose him, she would never be whole again. He was loving her into oblivion. What scared her the most was the part of her that didn't seem to care. It was the same part of her that loved the chaos and danger of a dogfight with a Cylon raider. She'd never had a problem giving herself over to a fight; it was just her body at risk. Lee was asking for her heart.

What kind of a person, she thought, fears love more than death?

But somehow, she knew that this thing with Lee, it was real. Perhaps it was the way he never asked her to say it, the way he seemed to automatically translate her puerile mischief into the affection she intended. She didn't have to explain that when she came to him in the middle of the night looking for sex, what she really wanted was safety. That when she smacked his ass in the hallway, it was the same as if she'd held his hand. That when she talked of their next frak , she was talking about forever.

Months, years . . . time didn't matter. And one ordinary night, when Kara was on top, naked – Starbuck straddling Apollo – during that time of night when even the night owls are asleep, her head tucked close under his chin, something happened inside of her. She let out a contented post-coital sigh as he absentmindedly ran his fingers along her ribcage, his eyes closed. Suddenly, she knew it was time. Her heart pounding with the anticipation of a long awaited release, she turned her head against his skin, inhaling him, and on the exhale, she said, "I love you, Lee Adama." She could feel him happy beneath her, taken by surprise, but more than that, she could hear it in his voice.

"You're such a hairball," he said, kissing the top of her head.

She knew exactly what he meant.

Fin.

**Note from Me:** Hi, guys! Thanks for sticking with this thing, which by the way, was written mostly while I was in class. And aside from this horrible story that I wrote ten years ago at the dawn of the internet, this is my first fanfic, and I don't know if I'll write another. This one just came to me, and I had to get it out. I'm sure you know what I mean. Feedback is much appreciated!


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